High school was supposed to be a time of learning and growth, but for me, it became a place where my voice was silenced and my self-worth was constantly under attack. I was gaslighted by those who were supposed to guide me—my language teacher and my classmates. They warned me to be careful with my words, even when I stayed silent. They insisted that I would “understand when I was older”, shutting down any attempt I made to express my confusion or defend myself. The fear of being misunderstood or marginalized made it easier to stay silent, to blend in rather than stand out.

The impact of these actions left me questioning everything about myself. I felt trapped, unable to transfer to another school, with my voice further diminished by my mother, who dismissed my concerns. This environment made me question whether my reluctance to speak up was rooted in my gender, social class, or even my identity as part of a minority group.

Now, as I reflect on those experiences, I still find myself asking: What exactly was I supposed to understand with age? Despite their warnings, I’m here, older and still uncertain of what they wanted me to learn. But I do know one thing: my silence was never about being wrong or unworthy—it was a result of their gaslighting and emotional manipulation.

Just when I thought I had moved on from the pain of high school, life threw a bigger challenge, and suddenly, those old wounds were reopened. I realized that what I thought I had healed was still very much a part of me, lurking beneath the surface, waiting to resurface at the slightest trigger.

I found myself haunted by the same feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt that I had tried so hard to leave behind. It was a stark reminder that healing isn’t always linear, and sometimes the past has a way of revisiting us when we least expect it. For the first time, I wrote this story down, and I’m glad I can share it with a sense of calm and clarity.

The European Experience: A Catalyst for Change

It wasn’t until I spent time in Europe that I began to see things differently. In European societies, where individualism is celebrated, I encountered a new way of thinking. Here, expressing your thoughts is not just encouraged; it’s expected. People debate, challenge ideas, and value diverse perspectives. This cultural shift was eye-opening.

This newfound confidence didn’t come overnight. It was a gradual process of unlearning old patterns and embracing a mindset where my voice had a place. The more I expressed my thoughts, the more I realized the importance of doing so—not just for myself, but for others who might feel similarly silenced. I realized that my opinions were not just valid—they were valuable. I began to understand that my voice mattered, and that speaking up didn’t mean I was being confrontational or disrespectful. It meant I was being true to myself.

I’ve learned that while it’s important to speak up, it’s equally crucial to ensure that what I say is grounded in honesty and respect. Freedom of speech should never be used as an excuse to spread misinformation or hurt others. It’s about finding a balance between being true to myself and being mindful of the impact my words might have on others.

This shift in mindset is what has inspired me to start writing again. Reclaiming my voice has been a journey of long and tough. I’m still learning, still healing, and still finding ways to express myself.